Solitary Survivor .. Dendrobium Orchid

Hundreds of species and cultivars grow in Alice's garden ... but there is only one orchid:

Dendrobium x delicatum 'Extra Fine'

is blooming rather late this year. A single stem sends out flowers, unlike previous seasons, when sprays emerged from multiple stems. A dear friend passed this plant along, a savvy plantsman and native San Franciscan with impressive expertise in the sphere of orchid cultivation. I've managed to keep the plant alive, although a more tender specimen - Masdevallia coccinea 'Leywoods' did not survive. I'm appalled to report that I failed to provide winter protection for the tender Masdevallia orchid and it perished.

The Dendrobium receives a bit of coddling during the rainy season, when it's placed outside the french doors on the back porch. There, it avoids the worst of my micro-climate's winter frosts that drape the floor of the garden, and the onslaught of drenching rainfall, resulting in soggy conditions. Only .. one .. orchid.

Pendulant, Promiscuous Cerinthe!

Cerinthe major purpurescens

Although slow to colonize here in Alice's Garden, the richly graduated shades of blue, purple and green of Cerinthe are now rampant, bolstering the planting in the garden's central bed. I extended an invitation to this self-sowing annual years ago, but its promiscuous nature has only recently taken hold in the loamy soil. I find the flower color to be reminiscent of Han Purple, an ancient pigment found in the decoration of China's terra cotta army figures. Oe perhaps the color is more akin to the Royal Purple associated with Medieval Europe. In general, I am put off by the color purple for clothing or decor. But in the garden, I revel in the contrast between the bracts' blue-purple hues and the rounded, pale blue-green leaves.

Fabbest Foliage .. Favorite Shrubs, Perennials & Vines

Alice's Garden Blooming in Spring

In Spring a gardener is allowed to gush!

Kerria j.'Albiflora' .. one of the earliest and most beautiful blooms to appear on a shrub.

Another early bloomer, Weigela f. 'Midnight Wine' with its deep, dark foliage.


Plantings have had to be adjusted as the tree on the property to the west soars ever higher and wider; its branches shading the garden where sunlight once fell.

Couldn't ignore this outrageous Raymond Evison Clematis cultivar, 'Crystal Fountain'

Perhaps the combination I find most enchanting in Spring: dramatic chocolate foliage of Corylus 'Rote Zeller'

intertwined with variegated Porcelain berry vine, Ampelopsis brevipedunculata 'Elegans,' a deciduous, woody, perennial climber - every leaf demonstrating a uniquely complex shape, mottled white and pink flushed.

Click to see more of ... Alice's Garden

Bright Beacons .. Elegant Ixia & Incarvillea

Incarvillea arguta .... aka summer gloxinia is native to the Himalayas. A lovely perennial that's well suited to partly sunny sites. Boasting divided foliage with a distinctive fern-like foliage, it grows as a sub-shrub in the Bay Area. I must wait until midsummer for the blooming to stand out as a focal point. But once the trumpet flowers emerge on terminal stems, the flowering continues well into the fall. A choice perennial, Incarvillea takes its name from a Jesuit missionary to China in the 1700s, Pierre d'Incarville. The species, arguta refers to the plant's "sharply toothed or notched" leaves, according to Gledhill's Names of Plants.

The African corn lilies are strutting their stuff! Ixia hybrids from South Africa's Western Cape province are members of the Iris family: Bulbous plants that have naturalized here, so I can look forward to a perennial show in April, as the wiry stems shoot up into space while the garden is coming to life.

The oval buds are appealing, while the star-like flowers - 12 on a single stem - emerge in rosy reds and golden yellows, none as abundant as brilliant white blooms with edges flushed pink and dark throats. Blooms open when basking in sunshine, but remain closed under cloudy skies. In summer my garden receives little water, emulating the South African habitat: When the Ixias enter a period of dormancy, my garden's exotic dahlias varieties can take center stage.

Link to... Making a Garden - Chapter 1

1999 The early days - to the present.

Escapee! Euphorbia 'Fen's Ruby'

Euphorbia cyparissias 'Fen's Ruby'

An itty bitty Euphorbia cultivar, 'Fen's Ruby' was planted early on in Alice's Garden, let's say... nearly a decade ago. Nothing much happened as the years passed, until now.

Fen's Ruby has become an escapee, making its way into the garden's gravel paths, where it's blooming. Atop the red-flushed stems of the new Spring growth, delicate lime-green to yellow flowers decorate the fine, thread-like textural foliage.

The plant pictured is no more than 3 inches across, if that. While the species is considered aggressive, probably invasive in many areas, this variety is found to be less so.

It generally dies back in a cold winter. And like all Euphrobias, the plant has a milky sap that's caustic. I've taken to wearing surgical gloves whenever I garden, and skin problems that troubled me have disappeared.

Click for more about plants and design in: Alice's Garden

Lilac Vine on Blue Wall .. Hardenbergia violacea

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Are you in the neighborhood?  If you're planning to visit, I generally describe my home in reference to the blue wall surrounding the front patio. Drop by today and you'll see the 'Happy Wanderer' or lilac vine scrambling over the corner of the wall by the driveway. The plant was well-established when I moved into the house a decade ago:

And since I've been 'in charge,' it is rarely given a drink during the Bay Area's 6-month dry period.  While the garden I created outside the french doors at the rear of the house is hand-watered, the plants in front must be able to withstand benign neglect!

When this early bloomer is making a spectacle of itself,

I'm reminded why I pulled up roots and moved West.

The long months of ice and snow were taking their toll in more ways than one.

Today, I'm grateful for the rain,

and for the exuberance of this drought-tolerant, carefree evergreen climber:

An Australian native that tolerates temperatures as 

low as 15 to 20 degrees fahrenheit, especially with a bit of protection (like a wall).

I'll soon be launching a new web site:

Alice's Garden Travel Buzz

Very excited about this project, however daunting it is to undertake!

Celebrating! Garden Tendrils Reaching Out from the Bay Area

In Celebration: 1 Year since I began sending out these tendrils...

 - short features and photos - reaching out into cyberspace to connect with readers worldwide. 

What an incredible journey! 

One that has given rise to countless friendships and connections in the virtual world, 

and under fortunate circumstances... every so often, in real life.

((In truth, I've just checked the date of my first 'Insomnia' post.

Apparently life has been so hectic - with much on my plate, so to speak,

that yesterday, in fact, heralded the Blogiversary of Bay Area Tendrils.

... aka Bay Area Tendrils Garden Travel ))

Thank you, T., for appreciating my passion for the art of the garden,

and for accompanying me on too-many-to-count short trips and lengthy sojourns.

Your love of birding and nature enhances my days. 

Longing for, Lusting after... Rare Solanums!

Longing for...  Lusting after.....  Coveting 

Plant lust can be an addiction.

In particular, I've a penchant for Solanum species, aka Nighshade.

I once wrote in Garden Design magazine, "show me a plant with attitude and I swoon."

Solanum atropurpureum

doubtless scared away more than a few garden visitors. A tall, rangy shrub marked by purple-black stems densely covered in thorns, it's another South American species.

An unexpectedly vigorous growth habit eventually compelled me to say au revoir, and  I ceremoniously removed it from the intimate space of the patio. Not a good spot to admire the plant's strange beauty. 

Solanum pyracantha...

has appeared here and there in the garden over the years.

Tender perennial set apart by furry textured leaves, and a rich purple hue on new growth and spines.

Now growing in a container,

S pyracantha boasts blue-green foliage complemented by orange spines and pale lilac blooms.

(Images scanned from my archive of 35 mm slides.)

Shrub or Beast? Making A Garden - Chapter 3

Artichokes in the early garden

Chapter 3   .... The Agony and the E... word

Shrub or beast? 

 Where a California privet leads a keen Chicago gardener astray 

That's the privet, poking out over top of the arbor

The tale of making a garden picks up about 4 months after move-in day. 

The raised beds and borders are taking shape over lengthy work days. The process: deep-digging; removing buried debris; implementing with soil amendment; outlining planting areas with field stones and pavers.

As mentioned, this period coincided with an El Nino winter of insistent rain. I apply a thick layer of newspaper over the paths, before covering them with blue river rocks. In this way, the gravel rests lightly over the hardpan soil. 

A cast stone bench is selected, and I build a blue arbor to surround it.

The arbor backs up against a California privet. 

When the space was cleared, some half-dozen trees and shrubs remained (along with 1 wild rose / soon to take the spotlight). All grew at points around the perimeter of the garden. 

To my eye, the privet seemed innocuous. A not-too-tall evergreen, multi-trunk tree. It looked fit to provide a bit of shade for the small patio being carved out. 

A year passes. One day a savvy horticulturist drops by for a visit. Looking at the privet, she comments offhandedly, “Well, you’ll want to take that out...maybe plant a Michelia in its place.” 

I had yet to realize it was a noxious weed. By now, the privet’s canopy is increasing in the new garden setting. Its production of flower clusters also increases, followed by masses of seeds that rampantly self-sow in the enriched soil.

I encourage Tom to prune it, heavily! I ask him to clip the flower clusters as soon as they form. 

He prunes and he prunes. The privet responds by producing a bonanza of blooming pom-poms. 

The Agony of of making a garden takes many forms. 

A few years ago, Tom devoted 2 days a week - over 3 months in the fall - to cutting down the privet limb by limb, using hand saws - no power tools for my guy.

BTW, privet seedlings still appear in the garden. Seeds of invasive plants have a long life span.

Link to Chapter 2

The Agony and The Ecstasy... Chapter 1, Making A Garden

Then... 

February, 1999
and...

... Now

The Agony and the Ecstasy

When asked to choose...

you responded with a request for more about my California garden.

In appreciation, I offer the first post in a series - 

The Agony and the Ecstasy - about making a garden;  revealing the creative urges, and arguably, the less exciting, albeit, practical aspects relating to the design. It's not hyperbole to say my garden was made from scratch.

The images scanned from a disposable camera - forgive their poor quality -  show the property 'before.' Among the weed trees, brambles and detritus were 2 young oaks, trees that reach skyward 100 feet at maturity. Their vast sprawling limbs are known to crash down during winter storms, both in open fields and on houses in our county.

One young oak was growing a few feet from the house; the other effectively shaded the yard. 

Well-adapted to the region, valley oaks cannot survive any supplemental watering during our dry season. You must not plant or water beneath the tree's canopy or over their expansive roots. As they grow, access is necessary for pruning and maintenance. However, given the confines of the space, with 2 very narrow sidewalks leading back from the front entrance, it would have been impossible for an arborist to work in this situation with the tools of the trade.

After moving from Chicago, we had searched to find a house where I could create a garden refuge like the town garden we left behind.

I fully expected my new garden to encompass an extensive palette of plant material, which I had come to know while visiting West Coast Gardens to research my first book. 

We chose this small house, with a blank canvas in the rear: a space that required me to begin totally from scratch, on a garden that would be a bit larger than in Chicago.

And as soon as escrow closed, we removed the two trees in order to begin anew: opening the space to let the sun in.

The only professional labor we have employed in the process of transforming the sadly neglected patch - see photos - into an essential outdoor room? 

One guy to remove the trees,

and a company brought in to build our fence.

I had designed, and Tom and I had built a fence for the Chicago garden shortly before moving West.

For the California garden, I designed, and we built two front gates. 

But, we were no longer up to the task of constructing a fence that would wrap fully around 3 sides of the garden's perimeter; necessary to prevent deer from grazing on the rarities I intended to plant.

Stay tuned... To read more about my Chicago garden, click on:

http://bayareatendrils.blogspot.com/2009/01/chicago-back-story.html

Making A California Garden, Flowers and Foliage, Design and Planting

'Before'

Flowers and Foliage

Corokia virgata 'Bronze King'

Cestrum newellii 'Elegans' Below...

UNDER CONSTRUCTION....

A visual diary, recording the making of my California garden....

from the earliest days to the present.

Year One

Images scanned from photos taken as the garden was being planted,

and in the summer that followed.

The garden layout....

working during the drenching El Nino rains of 1999/2000.

Somehow it was possible to deep dig, mixing in large amounts of compost and soil amendment, while removing concrete rubble, and all manner of debris buried in the hardpan soil.

Transplanted from Chicago to California, the move fueled my notion of year-round gardening, and I was unstoppable in my desire to create a new garden from scratch.

Shown at the top: scanned photos of the yard just before we bought the house,

and after I had started clearing the space.

Garden Born in the Fall, my San Francisco Chronicle Garden Walks column

In August 2005, after my  Garden Walks columns had been appearing for a number of years in the San Francisco Chronicle, we decided it was an appropriate time  for me take a break from touring the Bay Area's alluring winery estates, botanical collections, and private homes that opened their garden gates in conjunction with The Garden Conservancy's Open Days program. 

In this special column, I allowed readers entree to my personal landscape, measuring some 25 x 50 feet. Taking the opportunity to voice my personal preferences, I gushed about my favorite plant alliances. And offered planting advice, while describing the conditions and microclimates present in the sanctuary I created north of the Golden Gate Bridge. Not a day has passed since moving here that I do not wake up and revel in the natural beauty of Marin County. It's a glorious a place to live.

Log onto http://sfgate.com the Chronicle's web site, and do an advanced search for the column titled:  Garden Born in the Fall    ....to read the story, and see Frederic Larson photos.

California garden, 10 months after move-in date.

A San Francisco Examiner 'Habitat' cover story, 10 months after I began planting. 

Bottom right photo shows construction debris amid uncultivated hardpan soil, during the early stage of mapping out the garden design.

The story chronicles the trove of plant material that thrives in the Bay Area - dizzying choices for a transplanted Chicagoan. 

Easy, fast-growing pass-along plants - cannas and Verbena bonariensis, fragrant nicotiana, yarrow and sunflowers, were soon replaced by a plant palette of golds, coppery purple, and lime green foliage adorning architectural shrubs and perennials; set off by the fiery blooms of dahlias and phygelius, cestrum and croscosmia.

Chicago Garden, The Back Story

                     Ligularia in bloom, growing by the pond in my Chicago garden.

Photo Copyright Alice Joyce

The back story: I grew up in Chicago surrounded by asphalt and concrete. Gardening entered my life only after moving to Newport street. Sean may remember opening the back door on frigid mornings so our well-trained puppy could make his way to a designated spot alongside the garage.

Newport was my home on and off while doing graduate work in sculpture in California, and then an M.F.A. in New York. The brick garage, its ancient wooden barn doors piled high with snow and ice in winter when the alley was plowed, functioned as a welding studio, and a sequestered place to work with resins.

The garden only began to take precedence when I suffered burn-out with the art world. One show a year; the constant hustle of part-time teaching positions; grant writing; securing gallery representation. 

After years of yearning to dig in the soil, or add structure to the space, each time I walked the 25 feet from the back door to the studio... Let's say I finally gave in to the impulse. A turning point that had this zealous Type A enthralled in garden work from the first sign of spring, through the mild days of fall. In fact, in mid-winter, too, if I found something to prune.

By 1998, when I moved to the Bay Area, the Chicago garden was awarded a First Place in Mayor Daley's Landscape Awards Program. 

And I had signed my first book contract for West Coast Gardenwalks.